


I'm the Alpha Now

by alisvolatpropiis



Series: I'm the Alpha Now [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU - Scott and Stiles aren't BFFs yet, Alpha Derek, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Brief references to Derek/Kate, Derek Feels, Derek and Stiles are Mates, Derek is kinda a stalker, Derek tries to seduce Stiles, Derek's Wolf Loves Stiles, Episode: s02e03 Ice Pick, Eventual Smut, Eventual knotting, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, POV Derek, References to Knotting, Stiles is Derek's Anchor, Stilinski Family Feels, Wolf Derek, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 09:40:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1683722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alisvolatpropiis/pseuds/alisvolatpropiis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Canon-divergent AU in which and Stiles aren't childhood best friends, meaning Stiles is less involved in the whole werewolf situation our boy Scotty gets himself into. Alpha Derek thinks Scott's new friend Stiles will make an excellent addition to his pack. Things don't exactly go the way Derek plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm the Alpha Now

**Author's Note:**

> Brief reference to Kate's past emotional/physical abuse of Derek.
> 
> **This started out as a fun little drabble idea I had when rewatching 2.3: "Ice Pick": what would the Derek-Erica seduction/bite scene be like if it were Derek and Stiles instead? It took on a life of its own pretty quickly, and there's some plot but it's mostly just angsty Derek and chapter 2 is probs going be to super porny and full of knotting, so. 
> 
> ~~Thanks, lovelies!~~

Derek's had his eye on the Stilinski kid since he returned to Beacon Hills. From what Erica tells him, Stiles moved to here in freshman year and has never quite fit in – something about his sincere enthusiasm for learning and his dad being a cop and his biting sarcasm. Derek only had to hear it a couple of times – those first few times he was following Scott McCall around after Peter went rogue – to know the sound of a well-honed defensive snark that carefully masks an abyss of pain and insecurity.

Derek killed Peter and took what was rightfully his (well, rightfully Laura’s, she was the one who had been raised to succeed their mother, but he would be damned if Peter held the title of Hale Alpha for any longer than it took for Derek to rip his throat out). McCall still wouldn’t join his pack. Derek couldn’t wait for Scott to come around – not with so many threats out there, not with the arrival of more Argents. A lone wolf, even the Hale Alpha, wouldn’t last long without a pack.

Convincing Isaac to ask for the bite had been easy, as had Erica. After lifetimes of powerlessness and invisibility, they craved what Derek offered. Boyd had been a tougher sell, and Derek sometimes thinks he said yes more out of devotion to Erica than to solve an lingering self-esteem issues or loneliness.

Derek knows that he preyed on them, these teen outcasts searching for anything resembling control, for family. But he’s a born werewolf and he doesn’t see it as a curse the way McCall does; he truly believes that the bite is a gift, even if it takes convincing to accept. He’s only felt…not bad, but _weird_ or, shit, _dirty_ , once, and that’s when he first approached Erica in the hospital. She was coming down from a nasty seizure and she smelled of sour electricity and embarrassment and fear, but underneath it all, when Derek stepped toward her, her scent spiked with lust. She wanted him, and without really even thinking about it, he pounced on it, using her attraction to him to sway her in a seduction that came so easily to him like it never had before, he marveled at it afterwards, scared and captivated by his own power.

He hates flirting, with women or men, because he’s terrible at it and can't stand small talk. Laura used to watch him fumble his way through a conversation with someone he had the slightest attraction to and just laugh and punch him in the arm afterwards, telling him he was damn lucky to be so pretty so it didn't matter what in the hell he said. He knew she was teasing, had been teasing him about his looks and his social awkwardness since they were kids, but since the fire jokes like just echoed a little to closely to the things Kate had said him with sincerity when she was trying to hurt him. He had never told Laura about Kate, so he never told her how her jokes stung.

But somehow, despite years of near incompetence at anything resembling seduction, Derek knew what to do in order to seduce Erica, to draw her in, stirring up her lust just enough to leave her wanting more. Hell, screw just convincing her to take the bite. He could have fucked her right then and there if he had wanted to. He wonders if it’s an Alpha thing, or maybe a pack-survival thing: his wolf knew what needed to be done to make his pack stronger, and his instincts kicked in. Perhaps this is something Laura had known about, had been prepared for.  

That doesn’t stop him from feeling a bit guilty when he lets himself remember it. He wonders if Kate ever felt this way, preying on his teenage lust and insecurity in order to manipulate him. He tells himself he’s different, he’s not her, that he’s actually giving these kids something beautiful and powerful instead of destroying everything that matters to them the way Kate did to him. He mostly believes it, all the while wishing Laura was around to be the Alpha she was meant to be so he could go back to being the faithful second. The one who doesn’t have to make the hard decisions, the one who just fights. The weapon, the soldier, not the leader.

The one who doesn’t have to seduce teenagers in order to strengthen his pack.

Teenagers, yes, plural, because he’s figured out that if he wants to convince Stiles Stilinski to take the bite, the Erica approach will be more effective than the Isaac or Boyd approach. Stiles is quick-witted and too-clever by a half and while sometimes he lets his carefully-guarded vulnerability show while he thinks no one’s looking, he carries himself with a beguiling strength that hums with charisma and power, even if the high school fools surrounding him have no idea. He’ll make an exceptional wolf, and Derek wants him in his pack.

Wants it so badly he’s taken to following the teenager most days from a safe distance, learning everything he can. He seems to be becoming better friends with McCall, but Derek’s pretty sure he doesn’t know about werewolves yet. Derek almost wishes he did; it would be nice to let Scott bear the burden of informing Stiles about the supernatural so all Derek would have to do is offer the bite.

The bite. Derek has been trying to figure out the best way to convince Stiles to take it. Stiles’ mother is dead like Isaac’s, but he and his father actually love each other, so that angle won’t work. Stiles is a bit of a loner, but he’s not bullied or mocked the way Erica and Boyd were, so that’s out too. Derek started seriously considering the seduction route a couple of nights ago when he was…lurking beneath Stiles’ window, trying to see if he could overhear anything of use. And what he heard was certainly…informative.

Stiles was jerking off, which was not at all surprising, given the fact that he’s a seventeen year old guy. It was the porn he was watching that surprised Derek, sending a shiver straight to his dick that surprised him again in turn. Stiles was watching, and by the sound of his low moans and heavy breathing and the slick slide of lube, was thoroughly enjoying, gay porn. Somewhere, dimly in the back of his mind, Derek realized that he had the information he needed – Stiles is at least bicurious, it seems, so a seduction might just work.

Derek should have left right then, after figuring out what he needed to know in order to get at Stiles. But he didn’t. He leaned closer against the house underneath the boy’s window, shame quickly giving way to lust as he palmed his hardening dick outside of his jeans and breathed deep, picking up the salty-sweet scent of Stiles’ arousal. It was intoxicating, and Derek felt his claws snap out and he stabbed them into his palm, chasing the pain to anchor him. He’s a twenty-five year-old Alpha werewolf, goddammit. He _will not_ jack off in the shadows while listening to a teenage boy he’s never actually met get off to what sounds like a really hot gay threesome. He _will not_.

He wants to stay, he wants so badly to stay and listen to Stiles come, to try and listen for the moment in the video that sends him over the edge so maybe someday Derek can do the same to him, and _fuck_ he must be out of his mind if he’s thinking that way. So he ran, leaving the Camaro where he parked it down the street from the Stilinski house. He ran straight to the preserve. He stripped out of his clothes and let the full Alpha shift take over, running until dawn. 

**~*~**

Derek has his chance a couple days later, when he goes to Scott’s house to check in on him because the little shithead's not answering Derek's texts  _or_ calls. He's greeted by Stiles after he knocks on the front door. He shouldn’t have been surprised, should have known Stiles was there by his scent long before he got to the door. But Stiles’ scent has been haunting his memory for days now and it’s starting to always just be _there_ in his mind, and sometimes he turns at the heady warmth of it, looking for the boy, only find that’s he’s still alone and it’s all in his head.

So he tries not to berate himself too harshly for letting himself be caught off guard by Stiles standing there on the other side of the threshold. Derek’s standing closer to Stiles than he’s ever been, and his scent is even more delicious up close and now Derek can see the perfect golden brown of his expressive eyes and the way his obscene pink mouth flicks up at the corners as he eyes Derek up and down, not at all hiding his interest.

Derek should have said something by now, but he’s tongue-tied, because he doesn’t just want to turn Stiles, he _wants_ him, period. The part of him that’s screaming to give him the bite is quickly getting subsumed by the part that just wants to give Stiles whatever he’s willing to take from him, wants to claim Stiles as his own in a need so powerful it leaves him feeling a little breathless, like something's being tugged from his chest to tether him to Stiles. “Hi,” he manages to force out. “I’m looking for Scott.”

Stiles meets his eyes and holds his gaze, pupils wide and glinting with mischief. “So am I,” he says wryly. “You’re Derek,” he says. It’s not a question.

The sound of his name in Stiles’ rich voice makes his wolf nearly purr. He wants to hear what Stiles sounds like when he’s moaning Derek’s name, wants to hear his name breaking in Stiles’ mouth as he fucks him. “How do you who I am?” he asks, and if he were talking to anyone else it’d be a growl, but for Stiles he says it with a cautious smile and an upticked eyebrow. He desperately hopes he looks flirtatious and casual and not at all like a man who listened to him jack off outside his window a few nights ago. Not at all like a man who is practically whining on the inside to touch him. 

“Scott told me about you,” Stiles says, stepping back and pulling the door open. “Wanna come in? Scott’s supposed to meet me here after lacrosse practice. I’m Stiles, by the way.” He offers his hand and Derek’s breath hitches just a bit before he takes it in his own, because _he’s touching Stiles_. And it’s just a handshake but the warm touch of his skin and the powerful grip of his long fingers ignite something in Derek and he steps over the threshold without releasing his grip.

The scent of arousal – musky and sweet – spikes in his nostrils, even more pungent than the other night because he's so close to him now, and he can’t help but grin. Stiles’ desire smells like an elixir to him, makes him giddy with pleasure. “Nice to meet you, Stiles,” Derek says, finally releasing the handshake. Stiles leads him into the kitchen, seemingly comfortable in Scott’s house when he’s the only one there. He grabs a Coke from the fridge and offers another to Derek, who takes it because it’s easier than not. His mouth is watering with Stiles so close and his skin is starting to feel like it’s on fire.

They speak at the same time. Derek says “what did Scott tell you about me?” while Stiles asks, “so, are you here to convince Scott to join your pack?”

“Wait, what?” Derek asks, incredulous. “Scott told you? What he is? What I am?”

“Yeah, man. Well, he half told me. I kinda figured a lot of it out on my own,” Stiles is fucking adorable when he’s smug, and of course he’s smart enough to figure it out. Derek’s dying to touch him again. He sets the unopened can of soda on the counter, worried that his claws will pierce it. He hasn’t felt this unstable in his shift since he was first learning to control it when he was a kid.

He doesn’t know if Stiles is aware of what’s happening to him and egging him on or if he’s just being _Stiles_ , because he leans there against the counter, hip jutting out and broad shoulders back, chewing on his bottom lip as he eyes Derek. He’s wearing a threadbare white t-shirt that was probably loose on him once but now seems to be straining against the neatly cut, wiry muscles that play underneath the fabric. He looks utterly delicious and deviously sexual.

“How long have you known?” Derek asks. He knows he’s glaring, concentrating as he is on trying to have a conversation while his eyes track the scattered moles that pepper Stiles’ pale cheek and the way his hair looks just long enough to grab on to and hold tight.

“Couple weeks. I’ve been reading and researching like crazy. I’ve actually been hoping to meet you, because Scott’s awesome and all, but he doesn’t really know shit about any of this stuff, you know? I have a million questions for you.”

Derek feels his eyebrows go up. This is both completely unexpected and more than he had hoped for and he’s suddenly nervous. “Oh yeah?” He says. He moves closer without really thinking about it, his body taking over like it did with Erica but this is so much better because he wants it too, because it feels right. He’s nearly close enough to touch him again, but he doesn’t, a feat of strength he’s actually kind of proud of. Stiles is watching him with a glint in his eye that makes his heart and stomach flutter, and fuck, he might not even have to try to convince Stiles to take the bite. The kids seems like he’s ready to ask for it.

The thought gives Derek pause, which is definitely confusing because he’s been wanting to bite Stiles and make the boy his beta since he first laid on eyes him. But now, here, so close to his scent and the vibrant, human energy that is uniquely Stiles, Derek’s not so sure. Giving Stiles the bite would link them forever, but it wouldn’t make Stiles his unless he chose to join his pack, and Stiles seems stubborn enough to be an omega just to prove something, or maybe he wouldn’t join out of loyalty to Scott. Stiles would make an incredible wolf, but he’s already a remarkable human and Derek’s own wolf whines internally at the thought of Stiles losing that human scent that’s nearly driving him insane.

But he still has to try. He came here to make his pack stronger. He needs a wolf like Stiles. “What do you want to know?” Derek finally asks, stepping even closer. He’s close enough to put a hand on the counter on either side of Stiles, caging him in, but he doesn’t, yet.

Stiles’ heartbeat jumps up noticeably, but Derek doesn’t smell fear. Just curiosity and nerves and that damn heady musk of his arousal. Derek wants to look down, to see if he can see Stiles’ cock through his jeans.

“How hard is it,” Stiles asks, panting just slightly. Derek grins at the question and raises his eyebrows. “Oh come on,” Stiles laughs, definitely nervous now. “I mean how hard is it to control. Scott seems to do okay, but he said that at first it was kinda tough. Almost killed Jackson a couple of times, which, personally, I think would have been a favor to humanity, but you know, that’s just me.”

Derek finds himself smiling again. “It’s harder to control for bitten wolves,” he says evenly, not wanting to let Stiles know that he also wouldn’t mind Scott killing Jackson Whittemore, and might even do it himself if the asshole crosses his path on the next full moon. “I was born this way, so it’s different for me,” Derek says.

Stiles considers this for second, head tilted slightly to the side as he regards Derek. “So…” he says finally, drawing out the word like he’s teasing it or something. "You’re the Alpha. You’re stronger than Scott, than the others?”

“Yes.”

“What can you do that they can’t?”

That’s it, that's the opening he’s been waiting for. Derek leans forward and places one hand on the counter just to the left of Stiles’ narrow waist, getting into his space. With his other hand he runs his fingers lightly along Stiles’ forearm, a teasing, almost chaste touch that electrifies him regardless and ramps up Stiles’ heartbeat. Derek grins at his reaction, his wolf  _very_ pleased. “A lot of things,” Derek whispers, low and seductive, right into Stiles’ ear.

“Can you knot?” Stiles ask, his breath hot against Derek’s neck but that’s not why he startles back, just a bit, completely taken off guard.

“What?” he asks, stunned.

“I told you. I’ve been researching. And the internet is a weird, unreliable place. Scott says he can’t but he’s a beta right? Or an omega, I guess. One thing I read said it was just an Alpha thing…it was very informative. Lots of, uh, drawings.” Red is creeping into Stiles cheeks and Derek wants to rip his clothes off to see how far down the blush goes, to see how much redder he can make his pale skin.

“Yes,” he says, and he can’t believe he’s talking to anyone, let alone this kid he just met, about his knot, which to him is still only theoretical anyways, but still.

“Only Alphas can,” Derek says, struggling to even his breath. “And then only with their mates. It’s how they solidify the bond.”

“Mates? So wolf-mates are like a real thing?”

“Yes.” Derek’s parents were mates, and he grew up hearing all about their first meeting, about their magnetic pull to each other, about they both just _knew_ , right down to the deepest part of their wolves, that they were meant for each other.

“Like, one-true-pairing type mates?” Stiles asks, just as interested in mates as he is in knotting, it seems. “Like, true love forever and ever, love each other so much it makes everyone around you want to puke type of mates?”

This kid is exasperating. “Yes,” Derek says, ignoring the stab of pain comes he thinks about his parents, about how much they loved each other. About how they died together, hand in hand.

“Huh,” Stiles says quietly, like he’s thinking something over. “I think my parents were something like that. Or whatever the human version of that is.” His heart is still racing and he’s still thrumming with need and lust, but his eyes fall just a bit and Derek catches the scent of sadness.

He doesn’t really know what to say, would normally not say anything, but for some reason he wants to make Stiles feel better. “It happens for humans too,” he says quietly. “You experience it differently, of course, but it does. If your parents loved each other, I’m sure they were mates.”

“Yeah, yeah I think they were.” Stiles is quiet for a moment. Derek isn’t sure how they got here. He wanted to seduce Stiles into asking for the bite and now here he is, hovering over the boy talking about mates and trying to comfort him. Stiles clears his throat and rolls his broad shoulders, settling a bit. “So,” he says, his still-pounding heart giving away his new attempt at composure. “Are humans and wolves ever mates?” He shifts his hips ever so slightly so his thigh nestles between Derek’s, the barest hint of an invitation, like he knows the dangerous game he’s playing and he’s challenging Derek to play too.

He looks Derek right in the eye when he asks, and the bravery Derek sees there nearly guts him. “It happens,” Derek whispers huskily. “Occasionally.”

“That’s interesting,” Stiles says quietly, and Derek doesn’t really know what to do with any of this, so he does what he does best: puts his head down and bears on, proceeding with the only plan he has.

“Alphas are also stronger in every way,” he whispers, letting his lips tickle over the tender curve of Stiles’ ear. “We command authority, obedience, respect. Some Alphas, like me, can shift into a full wolf. Would you like to see that sometime, Stiles?”

Stiles nods eagerly and Derek pulls back enough to meet his eyes, sighing at the sight of his pupils blown dark and wide. Derek moves his hand from Stiles’ arm to his waist, running fingers lightly up his side. “And we turn people. Make people strong and powerful, like us. Would you like that, Stiles? Would you like the bite?” He lets his eyes flash red as he asks, drinking in the way Stiles’ eyes widen and flash in response. Encouraged, he lifts one of Stiles’ hands – good god, _Stiles’ hands_ – to his mouth and lets his canines sharpen. He scrapes his teeth lightly against the inside of Stiles’ wrist, his body wanting to bite and take but not necessarily to turn; he ignores the conflicting feelings in his gut. He came here for this.

Derek watches the pulse of Stiles’ blood under the pale skin of his inner wrist, transfixed for a moment. “I wouldn’t bite you here,” he says, almost conversationally, letting Stiles’ heavy, quick breaths punctuate his words. He moves a hand to Stiles’ hip, gripping him tight through his shirt. “It’d be here,” he says, squeezing lightly, his fingers a ghost of what his mouth would do to the tender flesh there. Derek lets his fingers slide across Stiles’ abdomen, coming to rest right at the button of Stiles’ jeans. Derek hooks his fingers in the waistband and leans forward again to speak softly into Stiles' ear. “Come on, Stiles, let me give it to you,” he practically begs and this not how it’s supposed to go at all, the Alpha isn’t supposed to beg for anything. “Let me give you the bite." Christ he's practically moaning. It’s no longer what he really wants, but Derek is nothing if not committed to a plan, and his lust for Stiles' is getting all mixed up in confusing ways and all he knows for sure is that Stiles is pressed against him and Derek has never felt anything so good in his life. 

Stiles’ heart is absolutely pounding, and there’s finally a hint of fear in his scent. “Shit, Derek,” he pants. “Is this how you turn everyone? Seduce them with your ridiculous face and sexy  whisper voice and press your supernaturally-hot body against them until they give in, until they’re begging you sink your fangs in and make them a werewolf? That doesn’t seem very fair, you know.” There’s an edge to his voice that isn’t quite angry, but it’s not pleased either; he’s _disappointed_ in Derek.

Derek stiffens, steps back. It’s not like he thought Stiles was so dense he wouldn’t know that he was being seduced, but he didn’t expect to be called out on it so bluntly. Derek’s starting to panic. Fuck, he fucked this up. He thought he could manipulate people with his looks and his body the way Kate did but he’s never tried it with someone like Stiles. He feels hopelessly out-leagued, his fragile confidence crumbling.

Stiles sees him for what he really is: monster who uses people to get what he wants, to get more power. His gut turns sour at the thought of Stiles being disgusted by him. He steps further away, completely out of Stiles’ space. “Sorry,” he says brusquely. “I thought you wanted it.” The hardness in is voice surprises him, but at least it’s recognizable, makes him sound more like himself, or whoever this version of himself is, at least. He turns on his heel and stalks out of the kitchen and the McCall house, refusing to look back.

**~*~**

Isaac and Erica are sprawled on the couch in the loft doing homework when he returns, and all it takes is a flash of red eyes and a low growl for them to clear out without question. A good Alpha wouldn’t take his anger out on his betas, especially ones so new, especially ones so fragile like Isaac. A good Alpha might even seek their counsel, draw on them for comfort and advice. Derek is not a good Alpha.

He sulks well into the night, replaying his conversation with Stiles over and over again in head trying to puzzle out his reactions his first face-to-face meeting with Stiles. If Laura or his parents were here, he could ask them, could ask why is urge to turn him faltered so quickly, but Derek thinks he knows the answer, and it stuns him.

It’s one thing to think he found his mate. That at least, was something he was expecting to happen eventually, the likelihood of it, and his reluctant acceptance of its inevitability, increasing when he became an Alpha. But he most certainly was not expecting that his mate would be a seventeen-year-old human.

A seventeen-year-old human who Derek wanted to turn until he realized how incredibly attracted he was to him, to his humanity.

A seventeen year old human that he barely knows but who managed to devastate him with his rejection.

When Derek hears Stiles’ heartbeat – god, he can recognize his heartbeat – and his scent as he approaches the train depot, he’s more worried than surprised. Of course Stiles would figure out how to find him. He should have expected it. He’s not ready for that look of disappointment in Stiles’ eyes again, so he stalks to the door and plans to throw it open and glare at Stiles until he leaves and never returns.

He's beginning to learn that what he plans with Stiles is never what’s going to happen. The boy barges in, brushing past Derek the second he slides the door open. And Stiles must not have been researching that much if he thinks barging into an angry Alpha’s space uninvited is a good idea. But Derek can’t even think about that, because Stiles smells agitated and anxious, and it must have started raining because his shirt’s a little damp and clinging to his skin and his hair is sticking up wetly and he’s so beautiful it makes Derek want to weep with gratitude that he even gets to look at him, let alone call him his mate.

“Scott told me where you live,” Stiles says, big eyes scanning around the latest set of ruins he calls home. “And he’s not in your pack so you can’t get pissed at him for revealing the location of your super-secret hobo-chic lair.”

“It’s not super-secret,” Derek says, as if it were true, as if that’s what matters. Having Stiles in his space unsettles him in the best way.

“I don’t want the bite,” Stiles says, spinning on him and crossing his arms over his chest, his chin jutting defiantly. “I’m perfectly happy being human.”

“I know,” Derek says, crossing his own arms. If Stiles thinks he can beat him in stubbornness, the kid has another thing coming, mate or not. “You made that perfectly clear. No need to come here to tell me again.” Derek balls his fists where they're buried under his arms, making his biceps look even bigger and more menacing. He knows it's an obvious move to appear dominant and it should embarrass him, but he feels like he needs every advantage he can get right now.

“You want to bite me.” Stiles says, part accusation, part flirtation. “I’m a little offended, you know.” His tone is slightly more playful, but there’s still an undercurrent of seriousness to it that hooks into Derek’s heart.

“Offended?”

“Yeah. Scott was bitten by your uncle, right? Randomly because Scott was dumb enough to go jogging in the woods at night alone? But you turned Issac and Erica and Boyd on purpose. I mean, I like them and everything, but don’t you think for a second that I don’t know why you chose them. Loners. Losers. Kids who will be grateful to you for giving them a chance to finally feel special. Kids you can control.”

Derek swallows hard but refuses to be the first to look away, even if Stiles is right.

Stiles steps closer, arms still crossed, but he somehow makes it some more offensive than defensive and Derek is getting slightly dizzy at the spicy, vibrant hum of Stiles’ scent enveloping him. “Is that what you think of me, Derek?” he asks, voice barely more than a whisper, the softness belying his aggressive posture.

“No,” Derek says, and then more clearly, “No. I don’t think of you like that.”

Stiles’ expressive eyebrows go up at that, like’s he authentically surprised. “Then why? Why do want me in your pack?”

“I thought you’d make a good wolf,” Derek says, trying to make his voice sound neutral, strategic, rational.

“You thought? Past tense? As in, you don’t think that any more?” Stiles is even closer now, and fuck, Derek has to dig his claws into palms to keep from grabbing at him. The urge to take and claim is coursing through him with a hot ferocity that startles him.

He breathes deep and takes a step so he’s toe-to-toe with Stiles, their crossed arms brushing lightly at the elbows. Stiles is almost as tall as he is even though he’s a fair amount slighter, and Derek can look right into his honeyed eyes. “I think you’d make an extraordinary wolf,” he breathes, letting himself be honest for once. “But I’ve decided that I like you human.”

Stiles seems genuinely surprised, and Derek’s wolf growls with pleasure. “Oh.” His long-fingered hand rubs against the back of his neck like he’s figuring out what to do with this new information. “What, um, does that mean, exactly?” His bravado is faltering, like he’s found himself on unexpected territory too and it reassures Derek.

“It means that your scent drives me crazy with want. It means that I want you human so I can mark you up so everyone knows you're mine. It means I want you fragile and breakable so I can take care of you.” Derek’s uncrossed his arms and has wrapped his hands around Stiles’ biceps, relishing the taut curve of muscle there as he tries not to squeeze too hard. His face is so close to Stiles and he’s transfixed for a second by the way his tongue darts across the delicate cupid’s bow of his pink lips, in fear or in anticipation and fuck, Derek wants it to be both. “It means,” Derek growls, giving into the call of his mate completely, “that I want to submit to you too. Want to let you take me.”

Derek’s not sure if he or Stiles is more shocked by his confession. He has nothing left to lose, so he continues, letting his forehead fall to meet Stiles’. “I want you in my pack, Stiles, but not as a wolf. I want you as my – “

“Mate.” Stiles says the word without question, like he knows it to be true in his bones. “I’m your mate, right?” He goes on. “That’s what this is, whatever this feeling between us is that scares the hell out of me and has nothing to do with the fact that you’re one of the scariest people I’ve ever met?”

Derek sighs heavily and closes his eyes. “Yes. I think. I don’t really know. I’ve never felt this…but…I think, yes. We’re mates. Or we could be, if you wanted. I understand if you don’t want to, believe me I do. If we stay away from each other, the bond will weaken and – ”

Stiles cuts him off this time with a kiss. It’s bruising and insistent and demanding and Derek gets over his shock quickly so he can acquiesce and give back, and give back he does. He takes control of the kiss, tongue demanding entrance that Stiles easily gives. It’s a fierce, fiery kiss that hints at what’s to come and Derek’s gasping and hard as a rock by the time Stiles pulls away. He’s gasping too, and mumbling as he smiles against Derek’s mouth. “I thought…I thought you were only coming on to me to give me the bite. Fuck, I almost didn’t care. I want you Derek. I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you a couple of months ago, creeping on Scott in the school parking lot.”

Derek, amazingly, laughs. “Since then? Really?”

“Fuck, yes. I thought you were Scott’s possessive ex or something but I didn’t care, I wanted you so bad. _Want_ you so bad.” He presses in close again, forehead pressed against Derek’s, big, strong hands gently circling his neck, thumbs pressing into the hinge of Derek’s jaw on either side. Derek’s body goes soft, his jaw slack as Stiles leans in to softly bite and lick at his bottom lip.

“Stiles,” Derek manages to whisper, his mate’s name on his lips a demand and a request, a curse and a benediction.

**~*~**

**To be continued....**

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: http://deleted-scenes.tumblr.com/


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